The Irresistible Buck

by Barbara Cartland

  “Are you – c-crazed?” she asked in a frightened voice. “You cannot behave in – such a manner here in a – private house – at a ball where there are hundreds of people – surely you are – aware that if I – scream someone will come to my – rescue.”

  “It is extremely unlikely,” Sir Gerald answered, “and if you scream too loudly, my dear, I shall have to take somewhat drastic action. I have only to encircle your pretty white neck with my hands and squeeze tightly enough to throttle your voice in your throat. You would be unable to make yourself heard!”

  He smiled in a manner that sickened her as she knew that what he was saying excited him.

  “It is a slightly painful process,” he continued, “for I would not render you unconscious. I don’t like making love to women who are unconscious and I also prefer it if they are not speechless.”

  “You are – insane!” Clarinda cried.

  “Not at all. You are Venus, the sacrifice to Satan of a pure untouched virgin. I promised myself that I would be your Master, your instructor in the joys of love and I do not intend to be defrauded of that joy.”

  “How can you speak of love when it is part of the wickedness and blasphemy that you and Nicholas indulged in?” Clarinda asked angrily. “What I saw of the – degradation and – licentiousness taking place in the caves, it made me ashamed that men who were presumed to be gentlemen – educated and civilised – should lower themselves to behave like beasts.”

  Sir Gerald laughed.

  “You are lovely when you are incensed, Clarinda, and you have courage! You behaved with great bravery when Nicholas and I took you to the caves. You will need that same virtue now, for I intend to make you mine and I promise you there is no escape.”

  There was something infinitely menacing in the pleasantness of his tone. He made no movement but Clarinda felt as if he had come nearer and was already reaching out his arms towards her.

  With a superhuman effort, she put up her chin and said,

  “I appeal to you, sir, to behave – decently – I cannot believe that what you are saying is – not just mere talk to – frighten me. No gentleman who has any semblance of honour could stoop to – insult a woman who is – defenceless. Let me go, I beg of you and we will forget that this – conversation has ever occurred.”

  “Well done,” he applauded. “You are more valiant, my dear, than any woman I have ever met. But it will avail you nothing, for I desire you and you attract me as no Venus has ever done before.”

  His eyes flickered over her body.

  “It is such a pity,” he went on, “that the Service could not have proceeded as had been intended. I grant you that Melburne was clever in snatching you away under our very noses, but Melburne is not here now and the door is locked. Come, Clarinda, and concede you are beaten, for I swear to you there is no escape. Look at me and you will see that it is the truth.”

  Because she was so frightened she obeyed him and found herself looking into his eyes, dark lustful eyes that seemed to have a frightening fire smouldering in their depths, eyes that were staring at her in a manner that not only made her feel shy but ashamed, as if she stood naked before him.

  Suddenly she felt that his eyes were getting bigger, larger and more compelling.

  “Come to me, Clarinda,” he said softly. “Come to me.”

  His voice was hardly above a whisper, but she felt as if it vibrated through her very body.

  Then suddenly she realised what was happening. She was moving towards him, going to him as he commanded, held by his eyes, eyes that she could not wrench away her own from. He was hypnotising her. She knew it, even as in a panic she realised that she could not resist him.

  Then, even as she felt a darkness enveloping her, she began to pray,

  ‘Help me, God – please help me.’

  It was the same prayer she had repeated over and over again in the caves. It had saved her then and it had brought Lord Melburne to her rescue.

  ‘Help me, God – help me.’

  As if the prayer released her from Sir Gerald’s evil magnetism, she found that she could turn her eyes away from his and in that moment she was free of them.

  She ran across the room, putting the sofa between herself and him. She stood holding on to the back of it, her fingers biting into the soft damask while she trembled with a terror that seemed to shake her whole body.

  Sir Gerald laughed. It was a laugh of a man who is intrigued and sexually excited, a man who knows he had the object of his desire well within his grasp.

  He moved slowly towards her, his eyes on her face, and she knew that she had thrilled him by her resistance and it was useless to beg for his mercy. She could only try to escape and attempt to fight him.

  He approached the sofa and Clarinda made herself ready to run from whichever way he came to her.

  “Come, Clarinda,” he said, “you cannot evade me for long. It is only a question of time before I hold you in my arms. You are like a little bird caught in a net. You can flutter and struggle but you cannot fly away.”

  “Leave me – alone!” Clarinda cried desperately.

  “Do you think I could ever forget you as Venus?” he asked. “The whiteness of your body beneath the transparency of your robe. Your figure is delectable, my dear, and the softness of your mouth will be more delectable still. I want you, Clarinda, and what I want I take!”

  He made as if to come behind the sofa and, as she began to run from him, he changed his direction and, reaching out his long arms, caught her.

  She gave a scream as he pulled her roughly against his chest. And then his mouth was on hers, suffocating her cries, giving her such a feeling of disgust beyond expression and which seemed to take even her breath away from her.

  She felt that his thick lips, hard, brutal and possessive, dragged her down to the slimy depths of some filth from which she could never be clean again. She tried to fight against him but it was impossible. His mouth held her completely and absolutely captive and she could not even struggle within his enveloping arms.

  Then she felt him move her a little to the right before he tumbled her backwards onto the sofa. She gave a shrill cry as she fell down against the softness of the cushions and felt him throw his whole weight upon her.

  She screamed and once more his lips were on hers. Her hands fluttered ineffectually as a moth’s as she struck at him and tried to push him away.

  She knew with a kind of dazed horror that his desire for her prevented his being aware of anything save the evil passion that now enflamed him to the point where he was oblivious of everything but his own lust.

  She felt his hand tearing at her breast and ripping away the soft gauze of her gown. Then despairingly, as she knew she must die of the horror of what he was about to do, she heard a sudden crash.

  Just for a moment Sir Gerald seemed to stiffen, although he did not lift his mouth from her lips. The crash came again and this time the door flew open as the wood splintered away from the lock.

  Sir Gerald raised his head and, as Lord Melburne advanced across the room towards him, he raised himself from off Clarinda’s body.

  For one moment the two men faced each other before Lord Melburne hit Sir Gerald hard in the face with his clenched fist. It was the blow of a man who had learnt his boxing from Masters of the art.

  Sir Gerald staggered and Lord Melburne hit him again and this time he collapsed against the further end of the sofa.

  “How dare you strike me!” Sir Gerald shouted out at him furiously. “If you want a fight, Melburne – ”

  “I fight with gentlemen not vermin,” Lord Melburne replied and hit him again.

  Sir Gerald was a heavy man and no coward. He struggled to his feet, but Lord Melburne was like an avenging angel and both his fists smashed into his face.

  Sir Gerald staggered against the fireplace and, picking up a heavy poker, he advanced towards Lord Melburne, holding the weapon high, the snarl of a cornered wild beast upon his lips.

  With li
the dexterity, Lord Melburne avoided the blow from the poker and he then gave Sir Gerald an uppercut under the chin with his right hand, which lifted him almost from the ground.

  He hit him again with his left and again and yet again, driving him backwards until he collapsed against the wall of the room to slither slowly down onto the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head falling sideways onto his shoulder.

  He was bleeding from his nose and his mouth and both his eyes were partially closed.

  Lord Melburne stood looking down at him, his fists still clenched, an expression of fury contorting his face.

  “Get up, you damned swine,” he called out, “I have not finished with you yet.”

  But Sir Gerald was incapable of moving. Lord Melburne glanced around and on a nearby table was a large vase of roses. He threw the roses on the table and flung the water in the vase into Sir Gerald’s face.

  For a moment it seemed as if the douche had no effect.

  Then Sir Gerald’s eyes opened slowly.

  “Can you hear me?” Lord Melburne bellowed, “Then listen carefully. If you are not out of this country in forty-eight hours, never to return, I will have you arrested. I have irrefutable proof that you financed and decorated the Hell Fire Caves on the Vernon Estate. I have not acted on this before because Miss Vernon might have been involved in the disclosure of your filthy practices. But now her name need not be mentioned and I can use the evidence I have collected and I will use it convincingly.”

  Lord Melburne paused and, before speaking more slowly and even clearer, he went on,

  “You will also be charged with being an accessory to the murder of a child of a month old whose mother swears that it was sacrificed in the caves. The corpse of the baby has been discovered buried in the field just outside the caves themselves and will be produced in the case that has been prepared against you. You know the penalty if you are found guilty, which you will be.”

  Lord Melburne looked down at Sir Gerald with both scorn and disgust in his expression.

  “You deserve to hang,” he thundered, “but I give you one chance. You have forty-eight hours to leave England for ever. If you return, there will be a warrant waiting for you.”

  Lord Melburne paused for a moment as if he expected Sir Gerald to reply, but the beaten man’s eyes closed wearily and he slithered still lower onto the floor until he was lying nearly full-length.

  It was then that Lord Melburne turned towards Clarinda. She was sitting up on the sofa, her eyes wide and frightened although she was not crying. Her hands were clasped over her torn dress and it seemed to Lord Melburne that she was almost afraid to move, as if she was caught in some terrible nightmare that she could not awake from.

  He put out his hand and drew her to her feet.

  “Come, Clarinda, I will take you home.”

  “Y-yes,” she whispered, almost beneath her breath, “please – t-take – me home.”

  He saw that her torn gown could not be hidden and he looked around the room.

  On the back of a chair there was a small embroidered shawl with a long fringe. He then picked it up, folded it in a triangle and put it around Clarinda’s shoulders.

  She said nothing but crossed it over her breasts with trembling hands. Then with his arm under hers he led her out of the room, down the unlit passage and into the corridor still filled with people moving to and from the supper room.

  They walked quickly and, although people tried to speak to Lord Melburne, he ignored them. They reached the front door and asked for his carriage.

  Only as they drove away did Clarinda give an almost inarticulate murmur and, putting out her hand, she held onto his in an almost frantic grip.

  “I am – so frightened,” she muttered.

  Her voice held a terror in it that was past tears and then his fingers closed tightly over hers.

  “We will talk when we are at home,” he replied soothingly. “You have had a bad shock, Clarinda, but it is over now and he will never trouble you again, I promise you.”

  She did not reply and they drove in silence. It was not far from Park Lane to Berkeley Square and Lord Melburne’s fine horses travelled the distance in a very short space of time.

  Lord Melburne helped Clarinda from the carriage and, holding her arm in his, he drew her across the hall and into the library.

  He refused the attentions of the servants and fetched her a small glass of brandy.

  “I don’t – need – it,” she tried to say but, looking up at his face and realising that he was determined she should drink it, without further argument she raised the glass to her lips.

  She felt the fiery spirit seep down her throat. It made her choke, but she knew that at the same time it took away some of the ice-cold fear that seemed to lie like a heavy stone in her breast.

  “No – more – please,” she pleaded and gave him back the glass half-full.

  “I am sorry, Clarinda, that this should have happened,” Lord Melburne said. “But Kegan will leave the country. He will not risk prosecution.”

  “You – don’t – understand,” Clarinda trembled, clasping her hands together.

  “What do I not understand?” Lord Melburne asked gently.

  She seemed to find it hard to find words to answer him. Her face was very pale, her eyes dark pools of pain. It appeared to him that she was beyond tears and in the grip of a fear that made him remember the faces of men he had seen under fire for the first time.

  There had been the same expression of shock in their eyes that he saw now in Clarinda’s when they had seen a comrade die beside them. Lord Melburne felt he must say something to comfort her, to reassure her and to take away her strained desperate look.

  “You are safe, Clarinda,” he said. “You will never see him again. You can believe me, I swear I will protect you from him.”

  “But you – cannot – protect me from the – others,” Clarinda whimpered.

  For a moment he could not follow who she meant.

  “The others?” he questioned.

  “The masked men – in the – caves. Do you not understand – I was Venus – the sacrifice they had been – promised, that is what – Sir Gerald – wanted of me tonight – the Venus of whom he had been – defrauded.”

  For the first time she gave a little sob.

  “They will be – waiting for – me, I cannot – escape them – wherever I go I shall be – afraid, for I don’t – know who they are. I have never seen – them without their masks.”

  Lord Melburne drew a deep breath. Then he sat down beside Clarinda on the sofa taking both her hands in his firm grasp.

  “Listen to me, Clarinda. I know now what you are so afraid of and I do understand. But fortunately there is an answer to your fear. A very simple one.”

  She looked up at him and he felt that there was a sudden flicker of hope in her eyes.

  “It is this,” Lord Melburne went on. “What these men are seeking, if indeed they are all as bestial as Kegan, which I doubt, is Venus, the pure untouched virgin, who is the sacrifice to Satan. Once you are married they will no longer have any interest in you. It is not only your husband who will protect you from them but the fact that you are no longer eligible to play the part of Venus. Do you see?”

  She gave a deep sigh and he felt her fingers tighten on his.

  Then she said in an almost childish voice and one that no longer held the frantic terror that had possessed her before,

  “But I – have – no husband.”

  “That is surely something that can quite easily be remedied,” Lord Melburne suggested.

  Her fingers slackened on his and he realised that, after what she had been through, she was almost on the point of collapse.

  “Go to bed, Clarinda,” he said softly. “You are safe here in this house, as you well know. My room is not very far away from yours. I will leave my door open just in case you should call out and feel afraid, but you know as well as I do that no one would disturb you. You are c
ompletely safe for tonight and tomorrow we can talk of this further and we can make plans.”

  “I cannot – go to another – ball,” Clarinda cried, “I cannot – go – anywhere I might meet – men like – him.”

  “Shall we go to the country?” Lord Melburne asked.

  “To The Priory?”

  He knew by the tone of her voice that the thought of The Priory frightened her as well.

  “To Melburne,” he answered.

  “Could we – really?” she asked and life seemed to come back into her face bringing with it a faint touch of colour.

  “There is nothing to prevent us. I will talk to Grandmama in the morning and we can be there before luncheon. Will that please you?”

  “If only we – could go – tonight,” she whispered.

  “I think that would be rather unkind to my grandmother,” he said. “I was looking for you at the ball, Clarinda, to tell you that she had gone home early. Her rheumatism was hurting her and I would not wish to disturb her now if she is asleep.”

  “No, no, it was – selfish of – me to think of it,” Clarinda admitted.

  “Would you like Betty to sleep in your room?” he enquired.

  She shook her head.

  “No, I am being – nonsensical – I don’t wish to tell Betty what has happened – I don’t want to – talk about it to – anyone.”

  “There is no reason why you should. Let me help you upstairs to bed.”

  “No, no, I am not – ill,” she answered. “I am just – being foolish, but – ”

  She looked up at him a little piteously.

  “You will leave your door – open?”

  “I have given you my word,” he replied, “and you know well that no one would dare to frighten you while I am here.”

  He walked with her to the door.

  “Good night, Clarinda,” he said very gently. “Sleep well and don’t be afraid. Things will seem better in the morning and we will find a solution together, that I do promise you.”

  She made a valiant effort at a smile and dropped him a curtsey. It was a very low curtsey as if she thanked him by the reverence of it and as she rose she unexpectedly reached out and took his hand in hers.